Whiskey Lullaby
by FUDDYDUDDY
Summary: A look at how Soda might have handled losing Sandy.


Disclaimer: The Outsiders belong to S E Hinton and Whiskey Lullaby is performed by Brad Paisely. I own nothing. 

We buried my brother today. I wish I could say that I'm sad but I mourned for him years ago when he stopped living. Today was just the end of something we all saw happening years ago.

Soda used to be happy. At one time he was the happiest guy I knew. Life was rough, and he knew that, but he had his looks, his friends and, most of all, he had Sandy. He was always there when any of us needed him until the fall of 1966.

That was a horrible year. I wish I could black it out but I can't. That was the year Mom and Dad died. I didn't think anything would be worse than that but the year just kept getting worse. That was the year that things got out of hand with the Socs, the year that Dallas was shot by the cops, and it was the year that Johnny died. It was also the year that Sandy left Soda.

There were rumors that she was pregnant but we never knew for sure. All we knew was Soda stopped smiling, stopped laughing. He didn't date, he didn't play football with us anymore, he even stopped hanging out with Steve. We all thought he would come out of it and go back to being his happy self but he didn't.

It tore me apart watching my big brother sink deeper and deeper into his depression and it got worse when he started drinking. We all knew he was drinking to ease the pain, and we all knew it was useless, but Soda wouldn't listen. His heart was broken and the pain was more than he could take.

As the years passed, Soda became more withdrawn and sad. Nobody could reach him, not me, not Darry, not even Steve. We all tried. We pleaded, we begged, we threatened, but nothing could reach him.

The day he died we found him face down on his bed with a bottle clenched in his fist. There was a note beside him on the be that said simply, "I'll love her until I die."

Now I am standing at the grave of my 33-year-old brother. I should feel sad or angry or something but all I feel is relief and hope. Relief that, for Soda, the pain is over, and hope that, wherever he is, he's happy.

_She put him out like the burnin' end of a midnight cigarette _

_She broke his heart, he spent his whole life tryin' to forget _

_We watched him drink his pain away a little at a time_

_But he never could get drunk enough to get her off his mind_

_Until the night_

_Chorus:_

_He put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger_

_And finally drank away her memory_

_Life is short but this time it was bigger_

_Then the strength he had to get up off his knees_

We found him with his face down in the pillow 

_With a note that said I'll love her 'til I die_

_And when we buried him beneath the willow_

_The angels sang a whiskey lullaby_

I buried my mother today. I can't stop crying even though I knew it would happen. For as far back as I can remember my mom drank a lot but in the last three years it got worse.

It started after she got the letter from an old high school friend in Tulsa. She never showed it to me but I saw the envelope when I brought in the mail and recognized the name Evie Parker. Whatever was in that letter really upset Mom. She cried for days and didn't even try to hide her drinking.

She started going out more and smiling less. She was hardly home and when she was, she didn't seem to know that I was there. I tried to talk to her, to find out what was bothering her but she wouldn't talk to me. Occasionally I would here her say something like, "It's my fault, all my fault," or "I'm so sorry, Soda." I never understood what she was talking about and she ignored me when I asked.

I begged her to talk to me, to stop drinking, to stay home, but my pleas fell on deaf ears. She continued to go out, to drink, and to cry.

I found her when I came home from school. She was face down on the bed clutching a faded picture of herself with a handsome young man. On the back was written, "Sandy and Soda, true love forever."

Now I am standing beside the grave of my 36-year-old mother and, while I am sad, I am also relieved that her pain is over and she is at peace. She was not perfect but she was my mother and I love her.

_The rumors flew but nobody knew how much she blamed herself_

_For years and years she tried to hide the whiskey on her breath_

_She finally drank her pain away a little at a time_

_But she never could get drunk enough to get him off her mind,_

_Until the night._

_Chorus: (Both)_

_She put that bottle to her head and pulled the trigger_

_And finally drank away his memory_

_Life is short but this time it was bigger_

_Than the strength she had to get up off her knees_

_We found her with her face down in the pillow_

_Clinging to his picture for dear life_

_We laid her next to him beneath the willow_

_While the angels sang a whiskey lullaby._

_La la la la la la la_

_La la la la la la la._

_--- Instrumental ---_

_La la la la la la la_

_La la la la la la la_

_La la la la la la la._

_--- Instrumental ---_

_La la la la la la la_

_La la la la la la la._

_La la la la la la la_

_La la la la _la_ la la..._


End file.
